


The books that tell our story

by NikaAnuk



Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Additional Characters, M/M, a lot about reading old books, and getting excited about books, book porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8741977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaAnuk/pseuds/NikaAnuk
Summary: In the world where others are telling you what you can read, you will never be free.





	

Christopher Wolfe was no stranger to books but he was overwhelmed by the sight of a trunk full of Originals. Some of them were probably of a small value, but there must have been something worth saving, he knew it. Three people had died for them – and they wouldn't for just another _Lysistrata_. No, there must have been a very rare volume somewhere and he really wanted to find it. He knelt on the floor, carefully taking one of the books out. It was  _Electra_ and he knew it was already in the Codex, so he just took off his coat and put the book down. He checked another volume; it was delicate scroll, the name was written on a red ribbon. He didn't know Chinese, so he clipped it and send to the archives.  
He could hear steps over his head - probably just one of High Garda Soldiers checking the building. Wolfe was too busy with his discovery to care about his safety and he trusted the soldiers to do their job.  
   
Next book was  _Meditations_ and he knew there were a few copies, so he left it as well. Then he reached for another one, deeper in the trunk and pulled out gently. It was  _Symposion_. He couldn't believe it. He had heard about this one, believed it to be lost. He held his breath, opening the text and going through the first lines. He instantly felt immersed in the book, he never read it before and, like with all books, he desired it.  
The steps were closer now, on the stairs coming to the basement. He heard them, and turned, putting the book on the side. The door swung open and there was Santi, with a gun, ready to shoot.  
   
“Chris!” he stopped. “Scholar.” He bowed his head in an apology. “What are you doing here? I've told you...”  
   
“I know. But I’m afraid they will want to burn those books. All those books, Nic...” he pointed at the trunk.  
   
“We don't have time for this now, they’re coming. I need to take you from here.”  
   
“We need to send them first” Wolfe protested and turned to the trunk, to clip another book -  _Shahnameh_ \- he had never seen it before.  
   
“You will come with me, Scholar. You are my responsibility...”  
   
“Your first responsibility is to the books, Lieutenant” Wolfe barked. “Just buy me more time.”  
   
Santi left without a word, but after few seconds one of his men came to protect the door.  
Wolfe ignored her, she was just High Garda, and returned to the books. He chose first those which were not yet in the Codex– three of them – and then the rarest. He left the more common titles for now.  
   
There was more noise from upstairs and he could hear some vehicles moving closer. Whatever was there, was going to be big. And Wolfe was almost sure these were not his people. He packed whatever he could and called for the soldier standing at the door.  
   
“Help me!” he put the books back inside the trunk and shut the lid, before attempting to pick it up. “Come on!” he called, when she didn't move from the spot.  
   
“I'm here to make sure...” she started but he interrupted, angry.  
   
“Help me take them! I'm not leaving them!”  
   
She looked towards the stairs and then came to him, putting the gun back into its holster and picking up the trunk from the other side.  
Together they managed to carry it up the stairs. Wolfe just started to consider stuffing all the books into his backpack, when Santi came with two people. They were both sweaty and dirty, and Wolfe could smell something chemical on them.  
   
“What...?” Santi stopped. “What are you doing?!”  
   
“My job!” Wolfe answered angrily. “Help me!”  
   
Nic hesitated for a second before gesturing towards the trunk. The soldier with him, a young, dark skinned man, took Wolfe's position.  
   
“We are leaving now, and you will listen to me,” said Santi to Wolfe. “And when we are back in Alexandria, we will have a word about it... Scholar” he added with no respect whatsoever.  
   
The noises from the front of the house made them look there.  
   
“You two, take the books to the back, pack them on the vehicle, Scholar, you go with them. You stay there. I'm giving you five minutes, then we are joining you. Protect him with your life.”  
   
Wolfe wanted to say something about books being more important to protect, but Santi turned around and disappeared into the front of the house.  
   
“Let's go!” he said instead and turned to the other side of the house.

They needed to go through a narrow corridor, so narrow both soldiers had to walk through sideways, and then Wolfe opened the door to the back. Their vehicle was still in the back alley. Suddenly there were shots from the front of the house.  
   
“Scholar, wait here” the woman said, and put the trunk down. She took out her gun and went first to check whether the back alley was safe. She stepped carefully, next checking the roof. A shot came from the left, hitting her shoulder. Too high to get to the heart though. She went on her knee for support and shot twice. A body fell to the ground.  
   
The young man turned to see to the front but the corridor was still empty.  
   
“Senna! I will take it, you come back!”  
   
“Stay there! Protect the Scholar!” she said and got up. The blood was visible on her shoulder, but she moved slowly to the back gate and opened it, looking through to the alley. She opened the door wider and stepped outside. There were two shots and then she looked back in.  
   
“Clear!”  
   
The young man looked at Wolfe  
   
“You will need to help me to take the books, Scholar.”  
   
“Of course,”  
   
With the shooting closer now, they took the trunk and hurried to the back door. Senna was there, aiming at the end of the alley, but no one showed up. She was propped against the wall, her shoulder still bleeding. Wolfe didn't even look at her, he just wanted to see the books safely in the vehicle. They got it in – the trunk was really heavy – and then the young High Garda returned for Senna. She sat at the door, to keep the watch, he returned to the back door.  
   
The shooting was now closer and the first men showed up. They had another, wounded, with them, carrying her as she was almost unconscious. Wolfe moved to make more space, sat on the trunk, as there was no other chance to fit them all in, since at least one of them had to lay down.  
   
Another two men came back, not Santi though. Wolfe was pretty sure that he was still alright, they wouldn't leave him injured, even on his orders. When he joined then as the last one, with the shooting following him directly – the others covering him – the vehicle started and they soon left the alley, chased by the shots.  
   
Santi was injured, but it didn't look serious, and first thing he did was attending to the care of the rest. They had already gotten first aid but he checked with them anyway, asked how they were, congratulated them. They did a good job. He would be a good leader one day.  
   
Wolfe reminded forgotten on his trunk full of books.  
   
***  
   
They didn't get to Alexandria the on the same day. They stopped at Serapeum to attend to the wounded, and wait for the transport. There was no way they were travelling through Translation, no need for it. Wolfe sat at the desk in his room – it was simple room with a wooden desk and chair, a door to a small bedroom. They were staying in a house of one of the merchants who had been arrested for selling illegal books.  
After the house had been stripped and searched, they moved in, Santi agreed that the small room was a good choice, easy to protect. Not the usual luxury Wolfe was used to, but he knew very well that luxuries come and go and there was no use in getting used to them.  
   
Santi... They hadn’t spoken since they rescued the trunk. Wolfe was pretty sure that the soldier was angry with him about the books, but both of them had their jobs and if he thought he will neglect his, just because... Well, he wasn't going to.

And now he was sending the remaining volumes to the Archives, one at the time, trying not to work too much. Enjoying the touch of covers and pages. There was something... powerful behind the words. Even if he had seen them before, seeing them now, written down with ink, seemed be more telling, like he could partly see

the work that was put into forming them.  
He still had four books to send, including the _Symposion_. He was saving it for later. After all of the work was done, he was going to read it before sending it as well. That was to be his little prize for the day, for the trip, for the blood of his soldiers, for everything he had been through.  
   
The knock at the door caught him at the window, enjoying a glass of wine, taking break before sending the last book.  
   
“Come in” he said, turning to face Nic.  
   
He was till wearing the same clothes, with new bandage on his shoulder. He closed the door and nodded shortly.  
   
“With your permission, Scholar,” he said in an official tone and Wolfe nodded. “You are the biggest idiot,” he continued angry. “You were risking your life for books...”  
   
“This is my job, Nic. Don't be stupid,” Wolfe snorted.  
   
“You disobeyed my order!” Santi pointed out. “You put my people in danger, Chris. This was stupid, this was not what we agreed on.”  
   
Wolfe walked to the table and put the glass down. “There were books there, Nic. This is my job to take them. You should have known this.”  
   
Santi nodded. “You are right. But I, in contrary to you, must think about people too. You should have known this.” Santi sounded disappointed, maybe tired and Wolfe gestured to his glass.  
   
“Do you want wine?” he asked.  
   
“No. You are starting shooting training tomorrow,” he added and walked to the door. “Goodnight, Scholar.”  
   
Chris looked at the closed door for a moment. He felt irritated at him, but he couldn't really understand why. Was he so angry, because Nic didn't understand? Because the soldier wanted to distract him from his work...? He downed the wine and sat back at the desk to read the last book.  
   
The dawn found him at the desk, still with the book, reading and making notes. He finished the second bottle of wine some time ago and the alcohol was the only thing keeping him warm. He finished the book, went through his notes again and then got up. Just now he felt a little unsteady, partly because of hours of sitting the same position, partly because of the wine. He got his journal and went out of his room.  
   
The guards were not at his door – but maybe there were no guards – and he crossed the corridor to Santi's room. The rest of the soldiers were put in two rooms, but Santi had single one, next to Scholar, in case of emergency.  
   
Wolfe knocked at the door and then opened it, hearing some shuffling inside. He got in, the light was barely licking the walls of the small room, it seemed to be filled with soft mist. There was only the bed and a chair with a washing bowl and Santi was just sitting on the bed, still soft from sleep, with a pattern of pillow printed on his cheek.  
   
“What happened?” he asked and got up.  
   
Wolfe noticed he was half naked, and suddenly went numb. To turn his attention, he opened the journal.  
   
“I must show you something” he stumbled and tried to find the right page.  
   
“Chris... What the hell happened?”  
   
“Nothing. I just need to show you something...”  
   
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him. Santi's eyes were worried and wary but his touch was gentle.  
   
“You should go to sleep. You can show me tomorrow” he said gently.  
   
“But... This is important...”  
   
“Then I will be here to listen to it when you wake up,” Nic promised.  
   
He stepped back, leading Wolfe towards the bed. Chis went still, not sure what to expect. He followed and let him sat himself on the bed.  
   
“You need to rest, Chris.” Santi repeated and knelt down to take off Wolfe's shoes.  
   
“This is your bed...” Was what Wolfe was able to say. “And it's too late for me anyway. I need to start training” Santi smiled and helped Wolfe to lay down.  
   
Still with his Journal in his arms, Chris watched Santi to wrap the blanket around him and turned to take his clothes.  
   
Wolfe watched him for a moment, but then the warmth of the bed and the smell of other man made him relax and finally he fell asleep.  
   
***  
   
When Chris woke up, it was late afternoon. He frowned at the misty light filling the room. It wasn't his room, he noticed. The blanket was rough and smelled unfamiliar. He raised his head and noted Santi sitting on the floor – since there was no other furniture there – he was writing.  
   
The soldier probably noticed him but didn't react, and Wolfe just buried his face into the pillow. It felt wrong to see Nic writing, too intimate. He never saw him writing, he never saw his handwriting too. Now, thinking about it, he felt himself blushing. How does Nic hold the pen? How is his writing? Sweeping like his name would suggest, or more like his work: all in place and sorted? Suddenly it felt important to know.  
   
“You are awake,” Santi said after some time.  
   
Wolfe sat up and looked at him.  
   
“I'm sorry...”  
   
“For what?” the amusement was back in his eyes. He put the Journal back to his backpack and straightened.  
   
“For whatever I did. I'm pretty sure I've made a fool of myself,” Wolfe shrugged and got up.  
   
Which was a bad idea, because he felt really weird right now. And Santi was very close, which made him warm.  
   
“That you did,” Nic agreed and smiled. He didn't look angry anymore and Wolfe felt better.  
   
Just now he realised he felt unsure about their interaction.  
   
“Will you hold it against me?”  
   
Nic raised his eyebrows. “Why would I keep anything against you, Scholar?”  
   
“This is not how I mean it,” he said, and the smile dropped from his face.  
   
“Well, this is how I thought you meant it. If not, you need to explain it to me,” he shrugged. “You came here this morning to tell me something? What was it?”  
   
Wolfe frowned a little. He wanted to show something to Nic... He flipped his Journal open and found the last pages. His notes were there, unclear even for him. But the title stood clearly. _Symposion_ a text that should be long in the Archives. And yet, Wolfe was almost sure it was still on the desk in his room.  
What an idiot he was!  
   
Without a word, he hurried out of the room, Santi following him.  
   
The room was as he remembered it, the scroll still on the desk. Nic, like he understood the situation, checked the window, door and bed. Nothing. He came to Wolfe, who was still standing at the desk with a horror written on his face.  
   
“Is all okay?” Santi asked.  
   
Wolfe shook his head. “No. You are distracting me from my job. I need to focus on what I am supposed to do” he answered. Santi frowned but Chris just looked at him. “You are a distraction I can’t afford while I'm working, Lieutenant.”  
   
They were looking into each other’s eyes for few moments before Santi nodded turned to the door.  
   
“I will make sure to send someone with food, Scholar,” he said and closed the door behind him.  
   
Wolfe stared at the scroll on his desk. Not only would he have to explain why it took him so long to send the scroll to the Archives, but he could lose it. Such a precious thing... He ran his fingers gently along the parchment.  
   
And why? Because of a man, who was a High Garda, not even a Scholar. A man that clearly could be replaced. People could be replaced, books could not. And because of Niccolo Santi he had almost lost one of the few very precious books. He still could feel the cold chill down his spine.  
   
Someone knocked and Wolfe turned, collecting himself quickly.  
   
“Come in,” he said and the young man from yesterday came in with a plate of cold ham and bread. “Thank you” he said and grabbed the scroll, when the soldier put the plate on the desk. He saluted and left, leaving Wolfe with bitter observation, that he had not be given wine this time... Maybe that was better. He made enough of a fool of himself.  
“Thank you” he said and the man left.  
   
It was time to admit the truth – in his work, he needed to stay focused on the task. And personal things couldn't be more important than his job. Not even Nic. He sent the scroll to the Archives and then sat down to eat. He hoped, with a grip in his stomach, that they would overlook how late it was. And promised himself never to get distracted again.


End file.
